Lizzy For Everyday and My Divine Goddess For Special Occasions
by TapTapAlways
Summary: When Mr Bennet dies a sudden death, Mr Darcy is Elizabeth's only chance to avoid destitution. But is everything quite as you think it is? Has two smaller companion pieces for the sisters/close-as-sisters not included in this narrative: Lydia and Charlotte.
1. Prologue

_This is a "Mr Bennet dies and Elizabeth needs Mr Darcy to save the day" story - but with quite a twist. I hope you will all enjoy! (This is just a short prologue to get it started, because my plotbunnies are odd like that.)_

 _The story is merely for pleasure and won't be a professional level of researched, though I will of course do my best._

 _I do not own Pride and Prejudice, but I don't need to because it ran out of copyright._

 _TapTap_

Elizabeth sat in her favourite reading spot - a large comfortable window alcove just a short walk from the master study, usually inhabited by the lord of the house. She had a book resting in her lap but she wasn't reading. If she looked out through her window she could see the park, the warmth of spring having just dressed the grass in dots of bright, cheerful colours and the trees with green leaves.

As she sat there, thinking of everything and nothing, she was eventually interrupted by a servant, arriving with a small stack of letters. Thanking him, she looked them over. One was from Jane - she was living nearby ever since the last year, but not near enough that they saw each other every week. Elizabeth opened it eagerly. Ever since marrying Bingley nearly two and a half years ago, Jane had hoped for children, and as she had given birth to their first son just two moons ago, her letters were full of exhilarating details about motherhood and the beauty of sweet little William.

After reading Jane's letter - it was indeed full of happy little stories about her and Charles Bingley's (so far) only child - Elizabeth turned her attention to her other correspondence. Skipping Lydia's letter for now (she knew very well what it'd say and she was _not_ in the mood) Elizabeth opened one addressed from her mother, only to find it almost completely unintelligible. Scanning over the page and not managing to catch much of it, she was relieved to spot the postscript, a tidy note in Mary's neat handwriting. Her relief didn't last beyond the first line.

"Dear Elizabeth. Kitty and I are well, but as you can see mama is in quite a state. I regret to inform you, my own sister, that our father has passed away. He suffered a fit on Sunday, and though the doctor came, there was little he could do. I am sorry to have to break such news to you in this manner.

Your sister,

Mary"

Elizabeth was not aware of crying out, but she must have, as the study door was hastily opened and the master of Pemberly was kneeling beside his wife mere moments later. "Lizzy?" Mr Darcy asked, saying her name like only he could. "Elizabeth! What has happened?"


	2. Chapter 1

Elizabeth found herself engulfed in her husband's strong arms just as her eyes blurred from tears. She had always been very close to her father: as a child, she had studied by him in his library, as a young woman, they'd talked for hours about logic or ethics, and after her marriage, he had been sad to see her go. She had missed him as she left her childhood home, and he had taken great enjoyment over the last two and a half years to drop in for visits at Pemberley - whenever he was the least expected, especially. She had enjoyed it as well, and - different from some visits from her mother, she knew - she suspected her husband had been happy to indulge this slightly silly habit, as well.

And now Mary wrote that her father was dead. Now she'd never meet him ever again, never talk to him, never be able to ask his advice in any matter which she did not even know of yet. She nudged the blurred letter into her husband's hands, incapable of vocalising the terrible news herself. Mary's note would do. In fact, her sister's blunt facts and short informational text would likely suit her husband's rational mind. He would be able to understand and draw his own conclusions from there. She felt more than heard how he drew a deep breath when he realised what the news were, and then his lips were in her hair, whispering softly and sincerely about how sorry he was.

There were footsteps of others, after that, quiet words she didn't pay any mind in voices which were familiar but whose owners she did not care to identify as she cried. Her husband was speaking to the voices first in his calm "lord of the grounds" voice, which meant the first arrivals were servants, then he switched back into the more tender tones he reserved for her or Georgiana. (Or small children, foaling horses and his hunting hounds, not that she'd ever admit to that she knew that.)

It felt like an age, but could not have been more than half an hour, if that, when Fitzwilliam Darcy gently transferred her into the arms of her sister-in-law, Georgiana, who was speaking sympathetic words of comfort which came much easier to her than they did to her introverted - but just as caring and considerate, if not even more so - older brother.

It was only when she felt her husband sit down with her once more that she looked up, gaining awareness of her surroundings after her breakdown. Her tears had run dry at that point, but she had apparently soaked Georgina's shawl before then. Her kind young sister by marriage did not seem to mind.

Eizabeth tried to rise, fighting against her husband, who tried to get her to settle back down. That meant, of course, that sitting back down was very likely the more sensible course, as Darcy was nothing if not sensible at any given moment, but she was too upset to recognise that fact as the truth it was. "I have to go and write to Jane, and Mary, and...!"

"I have already written Charles," Darcy gently pulled her back down, or more correctly, easily and surely caught her as her legs did not obey her when she attempted to stand and she therefore fell. "He will tell Jane, my love. We will take care of everything, do not worry about any of it."

"Mother and my sisters will need to..." Elizabeth swallowed down a lump in her throat, "Mr Collins will have the house."

"I have written him too, to make arrangements," Elizabeth leant against her husband, finding his presence comforting. Never was she more grateful for how he always thought of everything in any situation. "I have already sent a message to the Gardiners, as well." He continued softly, soothingly running a hand over her hair. "We will rent your mother a cottage somewhere, either in Heartfordshire or somewhere else, whatever you think will suit her better." He didn't suggest she could come live with them: they both knew it was not really an option, for either of them. With a sigh, Elizabeth closed her eyes, resting her head against her husband's shoulder, and let him take care of her for once.

When Elizabeth awoke - she was not aware of having fallen asleep, but perhaps crying had exhausted her more than she'd assumed - it was to the voice of Jane, who was joining her and Georgiana in the window. She just caught sight of a sheepishly smiling Charles before he and Fitzwilliam ensconced themselves in the study, doing whatever men did in situations such as this one.

"Oh Jane..." she mumbled as Georgina got up, letting Jane have her spot, letting her older sister cry into her shoulder. Jane had never been as close to their father as she herself was, but she was also far more easily moved.

Elizabeth tried to comfort them both with the certainty that it could have been so much worse. Before they married, the family would have been in such bad straits without their father, but as it was, at least that was not a concern. That, and the sheer comfort of having their husbands there to comfort them. It seemed impossible, on this day, but maybe things would mend: with time.

 _So, for a bit of an explanatory note: we have all seen lots and lots of different takes on "Mr Bennet dies and a destitute Elizabeth has no other option than to accept the proposal of Mr Darcy". I wanted to explore the death of Elizabeth's father from the perspective that Elizabeth is already happily married, as I have never seen that be done before. Because let's face it - Darcy was going to be totally efficient in this matter and had to have had a plan! And I wanted to know what said plan was. Strictly speaking, as an AU of an AU theme, it is therefore a satire, but not a very bitey one, in my opinion._

 _The story is set post-bookverse, though some slight film elements might sneak in. It should also be noted that Jane Austen's epilogue of the book implies that Mr Bennet lives at least a little longer than he does here, where he dies about two years after the end of the book/Jane and Elizabeth's weddings. The start of this story is set in April of 1815, while Jane and Elizabeth marries Bingley and Darcy sometime around November of 1812._

 _The title of the story comes from an alternative-ending scene included in the DVD edition of the 2005 film._

 _I hope you shall enjoy the rest of my almost-AU story!_

 _TapTap_


	3. Chapter 2

It was hard to imagine, during a time like this, and this morning, Elizabeth would not have believed it, but Jane and Georgiana and herself were all giggling for themselves as they went over the list. Efficient as ever, Fitzwilliam had found a multitude of affordable cottages in a variety of counties: including several in Heartfordshire as well, but he had by no means focused on the location. Perhaps he had assumed - and as Elizabeth guessed, correctly - that Mrs Bennet would not want her neighbours to see her like that: the widow in reduced circumstances.

Who was to accompany her mother was in question, as well. Betty was an obvious choise, but their head servant and cook, Mrs and Mr Hill, would not want to stay and she did not need that many servants at any rate, but she might well require a cook.

Then there was the matter of Kitty. A year ago, she'd been living mostly with Elizabeth and Jane. That was before the children came, and had ended with their arrival, but Elizabeth suspected that neither Bingley nor Fitzwilliam would mind in the least if they repeated this arrangement now that things had settled. Then again, while that might very well be much better for Kitty, they could not resonably leave their mother all alone wherever she went, and though Mr James' was likely to move parish sooner rather than later, Mr Darcy had promised him the next vicarage to become vacant on his estates, and thus until then, the priest was not likely to move. So Mary was not going anywhere, for now. Either way, Elizabeth suspected that the oldest of her younger sisters was rather tired of their mother and her nerves.

Elizabeth's mouth curved as she thought about Mary. Out of all the matchmakers she had ever met - and that was a considerable number, one must admit - her husband had to be the very least likely contender out of all of them. It would have been like seeing her father get involved in marriage speculations, only less likely! Then again, it was seemingly a very rare indulgence, if you could call it that, and one had to say; when Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy decided to play matchmaker, he did so with admirable efficiency.

Elizabeth's mother had tried for a decade before she got any one of her daughters to walk down the isle, and Fitzwilliam had, upon deciding that things were in an "unhealthy holding pattern, I must say, Elizabeth", seen Mary settled with a suitable match within a forthnight. To a sensible and respectable vicar she was completely smittened with, at that. Elizabeth was as impressed as she was grateful. Mary had not been happy the year after her sisters' marriages, and then, suddenly, she was married herself and blissful as could be. She could only commend her husband for his quick acting, as well as, as ever, efficiency.

Elizabeth was was torn from her introspection by Jane's voice. "What about this, it is a charming cottage in the countryside, do you not think that mother might... enjoy it? Lizzy?" Elizabeth looked up, viewed the document Jane had lifted, and then met the eyes of Georgiana. Neither one of them could keep from breaking out in giggles, once more, and eventually even Jane had to smile. "Yes," she admitted, "I cannot see it either." Her eyes went more solemn not a minute later, however, and the Bennets' oldest daughter sighed. "How are we ever to convince mother to live anywhere which she could afford? Even with help, she _is_..." Jane bit her lip, unable to speak it out loud.

Elizabeth sighed audibly, as well. There might be dire need for laughter wherever they could find it, and their mother was not there to take offense, but Jane was right. Their mother had always had rather grandiose ideas, and, help from her and Jane's husbands aside, after losing her husband, she could simply not afford to keep such a careless lifestyle. To have two wealthy and responsible men in the family helped, of course, as did the fact that only one daughter was yet unmarried, not to mention that Mr Darcy had payed Mary's dowry, which meant that the money set aside from the property had gone untouched after Lydia's share had had to come out of it, but a small cottage was still the only resonable living. And their mother was not an easy woman to reason with.

"I don't know," she confessed with a sigh, "but we shall have to manage somehow. I know she cannot come live here. She'd drive us all insane." Jane looked like she'd object, at first, but then dropped her eyes, likely knowing that it'd be the same at her house. She was the one, after all, who had stayed a year in Heartfordshire before moving to Derbyshire. They both knew Mary had long been eager to leave as well, and get some peace in how she handled her own household matters.

"Maybe my brother will think of something?" Georgiana posed, and both sisters had to nod. That was very possible: if there was anything which was true about him, it was that Elizabeth's husband was incredibly resourceful. So much so that they could not remember him ever failing a task which he had set himself, in fact. They were all willing to believe, or at least imagine, for the moment, that he could sort this out, as well.

"Maybe," Elizabeth therefore allowed, rising, waving at her sisters as they moved to stand with her. "No need. I shall be back shortly. I just want to check on the twins." As if by magic, both the faces facing her became warm and fond instead of worried. Smiling back, Elizabeth went to check on her barely year-old children in the nursery.


	4. Chapter 3

It felt somewhat alien to Elizabeth, to step back over the threshold and into her childhood home. She'd only been back once since she married, for Mary's wedding, as they'd all celebrated Christmas both years at Pemberley.

"Elizabeth. Mr Darcy," they were greeted a second later by Alistair James, Mary's husband. The reverend was a blank-looking, darkhaired, mostly forgettable man who had a way to speak with slightly too long words and awkwardly express ideas out of books, unfiltered. He was a heavenly match for Mary, and as he came from the next town, their home was not quite near enough to Longbourn for Mrs Bennet to drive him and Mary entirely insane. (That did not stop her from trying, nor from doing a passably good job, however.)

"Alistair," Elizabeth said, clasping the kind man's hands and smiling sadly. As she let go of him, he looked slightly apprehensively at Darcy, who always cowed him. Not, though, because he was trying to. Elizabeth had never seen her husband be anything but kind and helpful to his brother-in-law. She rather suspected that this just made him seem more intimidating, not less, but he could hardly be blamed for that. She hoped the good reverend would figure out for himself that her husband didn't bite, eventually.

"Alistair," Fitzwilliam greeted the somewhat younger man graciously in turn. "Old reverend Summers has sent me his notice that he wishes to retire half a year from now. You may have his parsonage when he does, as we discussed."

The young priest's face lit up at that. His current situation was not the best, and Elizabeth suspected that while not too taxing on a man who could not be bragged about like Mr Bingley, Mary's nearby relatives were not an advantage either. "Really? You mean it?" A decided nod was all the responce he got, but that may have been because this was the moment when the bereaved Mrs Bennet chose to make her grand entrance onto the scene.

"Oh, Elizabeth, Mr Darcy!" Mrs Bennet yowled dramatically, and Elizabeth privately suppressed a smile at the identical winces which passed over the faces of both men. "Mr Bennet has passed, and Mr Collins, the snake, will be here any moment to evict us, like he has any right just because the estate..."

She could, most likely, have gone on for some time about the unfair situation which was simply the law, but luckily this impulse was halted by the entrance into the hallway of Bingley and Jane, along with their little baby boy William. After a lot of discussion, Jane had decided to indeed come to the funeral, even though it meant travelling with her infant son, who was yet too young to be left as Jane had decided to forego a wet nurse, following her younger sister Mrs Darcy in her rebellious footprints.

(Mrs Darcy could generally be relied upon to leave rebellious and sometimes scandalous footprints in many places, and her older sister Mrs Bingley more often than not seemed content to follow in them. Thusly, they had scandalised many an old croon, who had yet not been able to openly criticize the wife of such a wealthy and foreboding man as Mr Darcy. Elizabeth thought it very amusing.)

"Oh, Jane!" Mrs Bennet started instead, losing track in her woes in favour of cooing over who was apparently her favourite grandchild today. Both the sisters took this calmly. Their husbands, on the other hand - perhaps wisely - chose to ignore the exchange entirely.

This changed in a heartbeat, both of them as well as reverend James snapping to attention as Mrs Bennet turned to critisism. "Really, Jane," her mother was saying somewhat impatiently, tone scolding, "on your way to thirty and only now giving me my first grandchild! And two years after marrying!"

"That is not so long, mama," Jane said softly in her patient way, pleading with her mother to settle.

"Really, even Lizzy did better! Two sons, only a year and a half after marrying! And Lydia has already...!"

"Well, there you have it," Elizabeth cut her mother short, losing patience with her unneccesary and frankly unfair (not to say, actually inappropriate) whining. "You had plenty of grandchildren before."

"But over a year, Jane, almost two!" She kept objecting, as if that at all mattered now that she had a perfect little grandson here with them. Bingley sure didn't seem anything but well pleased.

"Well, one likes a child to be born about a year from a marriage at least, as they are almost a year in the making," Mr Darcy added, finally shutting Mrs Bennet up with the shock of his dry, formal statement. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Elementary matematics!" Mr Bingley agreed, at which even reverend James forgot himself and actually chuckled. With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth whisked Jane away to rest after the journey, trusting Darcy to manage capably on his own. It had become one of her favourite abilities of her husband, as they grew more accustomed to one another: how unfazed he was by idle chatter or any crisis, as he had displayed so deftly with Lydia. Lydia, who's first child had been born a mere eight months after her wedding, and though words about premature babies were thrown about a lot at the occasion, not a soul actually believed them.

Jane sighed as they settled in their old room, left quite undisturbed - they would need to clear it out in order for the move to go along smoothly - rocking her son slightly to make him settle after all his grandmother's fussing. "I wish mother wouldn't be quite so..." she smiled sadly.

"Oblivious? Inappropriate? Loud? You are still always too kind, Jane," Elizabeth berated fondly. "At least your husband matches you..." the fond look did not leave her eyes: she much appreciated Bingley for how happy he made her beloved elder sister.

"And you're still an eagle-eyed cynic," Jane smiled back, looking down fondly at her son, her voice holding no sharpness to it, but then her voice never did.

"Well, yes. And I dare say I match my husband also," Elizabeth quipped back effortlessly, and the two sisters had to stifle their giggles not to wake the child. Tomorrow would be a grave day; they needed all the merriment they could muster, until then.


	5. Chapter 4

Lizzy had thought that she had accepted her father'd death - that she was aware of how he was gone now. She thought she had spent all of her tears, that first afternoon of crying on the patient brother and sister Darcy's shoulders. She hadn't been so wrong since she believed Wickham's side of the story before asking her now husband for his. She had cried more than even Jane in church amd afterwards.

She had done her best to gather herself, but she had been utterly heartbroken. Through it all, Darcy had gently held her hand, or rested an arm around her waist, and when they left the church, he had let her cry against his shoulder. She was so, so lucky to have him. Especially today.

Lizzy continued to be grateful for her husband's presence of mind in the days which followed. He had agreed to stay at Loungbourn while she did, and while the four oldest sisters Bennet packed up the house, he was settling their father's last affairs with a silent efficiency which had the local tradesmen which had made business with Mr Bennet thoroughly nervous, but which nevertheless kept them honest.

He was a help, as well, with settling accounts and with organising the estate into a state in which it could be handed to the new owner. Mr Bingley followed his friend's lead willingly, as ever, and the two of them made as efficient a team in the study as Elizabeth, Jane, Mary and Kitty together did in the settling of more mundane affairs - like which sofa cushions to bring or leave with the house.

It was during the evening meal of their fourth night in the house when Elizabeth pressed her mother to make a decision. They looked to be done within a day or two, and their mother couldn't delay for much longer - she would have to choose where to go next. To stay in Meryton or even Heartfordshire, or leave to travel to any of the cottages located further away which Fitzwilliam had found for her.

"Mama," Elizabeth started resonably, already decided to be patient and not let her mother provoke her. "Have you decided where to settle next? It is soon time to..."

"Oh, there is no hurry with that, Lizzy!" her mother decided with a wide gesture by her hands.

"I dare say it is," Elizabeth argued, "The Collinses will arrive within the forthnight and you have to have decided and moved out by then. You know this."

"Well, surely I could stay with you or even Jane for a while, dear," Mrs Bennet smiled smugly. Now, normally, Elizabeth would not have had a problem with such a suggestion, but she knew her mother. If they let her into Pemberley, she would never leave. Much as she loved her, she was too loud and too frivolous for that. It would never work. But how could she tell her mother that?

As it turned out, she was spared from any such trials. "Out of the question. You shall not come and live with us, Mrs Bennet, and that is my final word on the matter," Mr Darcy cut in, unusually brusque. So much so that Elizabeth looked over at him with some surprise before she understood the ploy and looked down into her soup.

They all waited patiently for the complaining monologue of Mrs Bennet to run through its course, and Elizabeth looked up to give her sister a warning glance not to offer a place with them, just for the time being. It would not be temporary and they all knew it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband do the same to mr Bingley, who finally - gracefully albeit slightly stumbling - declined Mrs Bennet's outright question when she came that far.

No, Elizabeth decided grimly, as the next course was brought in. Their mother would have to find herself another home of her own, and that was final. Painful as this harshness was, some things simply did not work.

"Can _I_ come live with you?" the silence after Mrs Bennet finally wore herself out was suddenly broken by Kitty, who was looking at her elder sister's husband with some apprehension. Clearly, she did not wish to bear her mother's rapidly growning bitterness as a widow all on her own.

"Certainly, now that the twins are older. You are welcome if Elizabeth deems it the best course," Mr Darcy answered lightly, not a shadow of hesitation on his face nor in his voice. Kitty turned hopeful eyes on Elizabeth. "Sister?" Her voice was pleading.

Elizabeth did not have to think for long. Fitzwilliam's answer had been amicable, as much so as he could be without putting her in a difficult position if she was not yet ready, and he clearly did not mind. Nor did she, but leaving her mother entirely alone all along? Not to mention, it was an upheaval for all... even without Kitty leaving Heartfordshire in such a rush."You can come join us together with Mary when she and her husband takes over the parsonage," she decided.

"You can come live with us until then, if you want to, Miss Katherine," Mr James offered, somewhat unexpectedly. "And we can all travel together when it is time in the autumn." Kitty's pout was settled into relief immediately, and just like that, it was decided. They all turned a deaf ear as Mrs Bennet spent the rest of the meal complaining. They all knew she would have, no matter _what_ they had decided.


	6. Chapter 5

Leaving Heartfordshire felt even stranger to Elizabeth the second time around than it had the first time. Their mother had continued with her protests undeterred, no matter how many times Jane, Elizabeth and even Kitty had tried to tell her how they were all lucky and that it could easily have been so much worse.

They had tried to suggest - when no suggestion of her own was forthcoming from Mrs Bennet - a lovely local cottage for her next abode, but this idea had not gained favour with their mother at all. She kept insisting living in such reduced circumstances would make her look bad, somehow, shame her before her long-time neighbours, and what would Mrs Lucas say? As a result, Elizabeth had passed this on to her husband for consideration, and he had chosen a cottage in another county for her, just not in Derbyshire. They all ignored that Mrs Bennet told the neighbours that she was headed for Pemberley, when she finally travelled away with them.

They left Kitty and her belongings with Mary and her husband, to move along with them later on, and brought keepsakes either Jane or Elizabeth hadn't thought to bring when moving after marrying, as well as Mrs Bennet's belongings. They did not travel with the latter for long, as they were headed home, both the Bingleys and the Darcys residing in Derbyshire, while Mrs Bennets new home was in Devonshire. No one listened to her objections any longer, her insistent complaints over trivia having worn on the patience of not only Elizabeth, but also the deep-roted kindness of Jane and Charles, and the unshakable resolve of Fitzwilliam.

The rest of the long ride to Derbyshire was largely silent, Fitzwilliam reading important-looking letters and Elizabeth looking out the window in silence, the light drizzle on the windows soothing somehow, thinking of her father. She felt her husband's gaze on her from time to time, but he was never the type to talk if he had nothing to say, and so he did not ask meaningless questions as to her wellbeing. She was mourning and they both knew it.

All in all, the silence was comfortable as they travelled, and Elizabeth also knew that should she desire to speak, Darcy would hear her without question. Perhaps contrary to what most people's first impression might be, the master of Pemberley was really not only an excellent listener, but also every bit the loyal companion Elizabeth had once been assured by his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam that he was.

Still, it was a relief to return home - if nothing else because Elizabeth had missed her still young children - and Georgiana's heartfelt condoleances were honest enough to feel soothing rather than condescending. Sometimes Elizabeth could not say which astonished her more, the similarities between the siblings - both shy, if in different ways, both with so warm, caring hearts and so good intentions - or their wast differences.

Where Fitzwilliam was seemingly distant, dark and cold, his little sister was vibrant, earnest, expressive and had her every emotion worn openly on her sleeve. Maybe, Elizabeth had come to the half-conclusion during the very first weeks of living at Pemberley with the borther and sister, Georgiana was so open and innocent precisely because she had her brother looking out for her, always ready to help and protect her in every way, while Darcy had grown up to fill a much heavier role, with no one to have his back (except a few unlikely allies and friends and some very loyal servants) after their father's death.

It was surprisingly seamless, falling back into rutine, and as the weeks started to pass, Elizabeth's heart slowly stopped to ache, at least when surrounded by her children, sister-in-law and husband. She missed dearly those much-prized letters from her father, but letters from Jane, Charlotte and Mary were all helpful, and so was the closeness to Jane. She looked forward to having two more sisters close enough to visit easily in the autumn, and she tried to let time move its course and have its way, healing any and every injury: though it admittedly did so slowly.


	7. Chapter 6

The Pemberley estate was gorgeous at any time of the year, but in its summer form, it was more beautiful than ever. Elizabeth had felt less moved by the warmth coming and claiming the gardens and parks for its own than she was used to, after the loss of her father in the early spring, but finally, finally, she felt less numb.

It had not been easy - Elizabeth's father had greatly molded her into who she was and she loved him greatly - but she was starting to feel like she was healing from his loss.

It was almost with a sense of deja vu that Elizabeth watched the servant come towards her, carrying a letter from each of her sisters, much like on that day. She got many letters from all of them, of course, but it was the first time since she lost her father it coincided like this again. She started with Jane's, but it did not lessen her sense of foreboding. Much like on that spring morning, Jane's letter was filled with happy household matters and delight for her son, who was now smiling in responce to his father.

This day, Mary's letter only contained mundane and peaceful details from a parsonage, reminding her of many letters she'd gotten from Charlotte through the last two years. Kitty was longing to come live with them in the autumn, and Lydia... Elizabeth decided to go for a walk after reading her youngest sister's letter.

While the letter described a hunt Wickham was planning to join in some detail, Lydia's letters were not even attempting to conceal the beggary any more, and while Elizabeth had used to help frequently, she had grown tired of her little sister's lack of restraint. She could help as much as she wanted, but it would cause no change. It might even make things worse, she had realised that with time.

The summer days were filled, after that, with Georgiana and even her brother, though he had more demands to his time, trying to cheer Elizabeth up. She was warmed by their concern, and they and her sons did brighten her days. She was feeling so much better, and things were slowly returning to their old pace, those much missed letters aside.

She was sitting out in the gardens with Georgiana, the twins sleeping indoors and their father in a meeting with his steward, when a servant delivered Elizabeth the next letter from her youngest sister. The only letter, on this particular day.

Expecting her sister's wrath, after not giving in this time, Elizabeth decided on a calm disposition and adopted it already before opening the letter itself, in fact. Something must have been obvious in her posture, because Georgiana looked up from her drawing. "News from Lydia?" Sometimes Elizabeth found it fascinating and foreboding in equal measures how well the two Darcy siblings knew her. "Yes," she confirmed, unfolding the page with a frown.

Her frown only deepened as she read on, and when she looked up to meet Georgiana's concerned gaze, she wondered at how she ought to give these news, of a man she'd rather not talk about to her dear sister-in-law at all, if she could at all help it.

"In my sister's last letter," Elizabeth began, blinking, "she told me her husband," she avoided the name but still saw the delicate young noblewoman flinch slightly, "was joining a hunt. It now seem he had no permission to do such a thing and he should have still been at his commission. As you can imagine it was quite... unwise."

"Oh. Has he lost his position?" Georgiana was struggling to keep her voice polite, to care about Elizabeth's family news and not pretend to notice just whom they involved.

"No. But Lydia has lost any chance she might have to seek compensation for his loss in any form. There was an accident." Elizabeth met her dear little sister's eyes, watching her in concern. "Wickham has died. He is never coming back to haunt you, ever again," she added, for a moment more concerned for this sister, than that one.

"Oh." Georgiana stated, rising and leaving in a rush. Elizabeth looked in on her, playing with the twins in the nursery, a few minutes later, and left her to the calming persuit with a smile, to go find her husband. Lydia was asking to come stay with them, predictably, and different from Kitty, who was showing every sign of growing into quite the accomplished young woman, away from Lydia's influence, Elizabeth knew her husband would never agree to this.

Not only would Lydia - with her history - be unacceptable company for not only Georgiana but also Kitty, but she was also not a young, unmarried sister needing a home until she found a suitable husband. Lydia's situation was very different. They would help, Elizabeth could never imagine not to, but she could never let Wickham's widow and children be a constant reminder for Georgiana, or a constant bad influence on Kitty and her sons.

While Lydia had not attended their father's funeral, it was not that long since Elizabeth had seen her. Lydia too, had changed, though maybe not as much as the rest of them, and it had - perhaps unsurprisingly - not been entirely for the better. Mrs Darcy knocked on her husband's study door, and was granted entry immediately.


	8. Chapter 7

Elizabeth had always known that her husband and her youngest sister were unlikely to spend a lot of time under the same roof - they were of an acutely unmatching disposition, as it were - but she had also always known that he would never hesitate to help Lydia out, now that her husband had been killed in what Fitzwilliam Darcy had called a "highly unlikely shooting accident" when he finally commented on it, and needed a guardian angel.

She did not have to say more than what was needed to relate the most necessary facts - and reassure the protective big brother that Georgiana had heard the news and was peacefully playing with the twins, because of course that was his first thought and concern - and her husband was already making arrangements for helping Lydia settle her household accounts and travel to join the also recently widowed Mrs Bennet

That was what she wrote and told Jane, Mary and Kitty, once she sat down to write later during the afternoon. She was absolutely certain that Mary would be as unwilling as they were themselves to take Lydia in - Lydia's tendency to ignore the middle sister was bound to come back to haunt her at some point - and she knew that Bingley and Jane (fully aware of events, both of them) wouldn't either, so she felt no need to ask them first. Besides, Mrs Bennet would be delighted for the company, no doubt.

Elizabeth had to sigh at that though. Her mother had written at least twice every week since the death of her husband, complaning about absolutely everything, nevermind that she would have been in the gutter if not for her two oldest daughters and their husbands. (As patient as Mr James was, even he was bound to object to having his mother-in-law come live with them.)

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth looked up to see Georgiana, from the look of it just having risen from her piano bench after practising, standing next to Elizabeth's writing desk.

"Yes I am, Georgiana, thank you. What about you?" Elizabeth replied carefully, watching her sweet sister's facial expression carefully.

"It is just, so soon after your father..." Georgiana blushed lightly, realising she had almost ignored the question. "I am well, Elizabeth, I promise." The older woman nodded, and smiled slightly, if somewhat wistfully.

"It seems trouble never comes alone. But things will be better. Matters always resolve at the end," she assured the younger, blonde woman. Georgiana laughed. "You sound like Jane!"

Elizabeth chuckled in turn. "Well, she _is_ my older sister. She did teach me all I know, so rightly so!"

Georgiana's eyes turned wistful as well as she sat down on a chair next to the one Elizabeth was occupying. "It must have been nice, growing up having a older sister..."

"You have one now," Elizabeth pointed out gently, smiling. "One might even say, two! Or three, even, when Mary arrive. I think we can all stretch to being equally much sisters to you and Kitty, and not just me." Georgiana smiled at that, leaning slightly against Elizabeth's shoulder. "It must have been nice with a big brother, as well," Elizabeth pointed out, a little curious.

"Oh, it is. And I have the best big brother there is! But there's no need to tell you that," the younger Darcy sibling teased affectionately.

"No," Elizabeth agreed, smiling brightly, "I am already convinced. I couldn't have pictured Fitzwilliam playing though, until I saw him dote on the twins."

"Fitz is so much older than I am, I could never imagine him as a child," his little sister mused, "but he always brought me pretty things in the nursery and he has been reading to me since before I can remember. Mrs Reynolds likes to coo over how he did so even when I was an infant."

"That does sound like Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth agreed, smiling at the mental image Georgiana conjured before admitting, "I cannot see him as a small boy, either, no matter how many times Mrs Reynolds speaks of it. It is hard to imagine him as anything but well-dressed and dignified, even for me."

"I think he was just as grown-up and serious even before he was meant to be," Georgiana giggled for a moment before pausing and no doubt remembering circumstances and why her brother had been forced to grow up so rapidly and be so serious. Not wanting her to get lost in the past, Elizabeth gave the younger woman's hand a squeese and when she looked up, she smiled again. Good and bad, the past was behind them.


	9. Chapter 8

Fitzwilliam was lingering in the doorway, clearly worried for her welfare. Elizabeth waved him out impatiently. She was lucky, she knew from Jane's accounts, to have such a decisive and sure husband, in moments such as this one. Bingley had fussed so much every time Jane had even felt sick during her pregnancy that Elizabeth on more than one occasion had sent an amused Darcy to distract him before he drove her dear older sister to complete distraction.

Bending over the basin for one last dry heaving, Elizabeth sighed. Outside, the leaves were starting to turn orange and red in the many parks on the grounds of the Pemberley estate, and this was the first time she felt sick like this since half-through her term with the twins. It was too early to know of course - she might have just eaten something she oughtn't have - but Elizabeth _felt_ it. She just knew. After all, this was how it started last time. She felt herself smiling, as she finally rose.

During the next few weeks, as the leaves grew into deep colours and then fell, Elizabeth was proved correct, and the physician come to give her advice she already knew. Did the man think she had forgotten everything in the last year since her confinement? But Elizabeth listened patiently, and then laughed about it with Jane.

When Kitty heard the news, it showed well how she'd grown up the last few years that she at least professed to be happy for her sister rather than worried for what it meant for herself. This was promptly solved by Jane deciding that Kitty could live with her once Elizabeth reached her confinement, as her little William would then be old enough for some more company. Besides, as Mary rightly pointed out once they finally arrived, Georgiana had been there all through the infancy of the twins without any harm coming of it. (After, of course, Elizabeth was through her confinement.)

Thus it was a happy occasion when Kitty, Mary and her husband arrived when it was time for the good reverend to take over the parsonage. Said living - once destined for Wickham, as a matter of fact - was located on the Pemberley estate, only two or three miles from the great house. Still a passionate walker, Elizabeth looked forward to having her middle sister so close. While she'd always been closest to Jane, she had come to appreciate Mary's calm demeanour and growing common sense, especially after they both married and Mary eased up a bit on her rigorous reading schedule in favour of opinions all her own.

It felt like the first evening of many when they all - four sisters, three husbands and one sister-in-law (Bingley's sister Caroline was living permanently in London with her sister Louisa and her tedious husband Mr Hurst these days) - gathered in the dining room together after the children was in bed.

"Have any of you heard from mother?" Kitty took up in conversation after Bingley had related an amusing episode involving a dozen apples, his horse and a very inquisitive crow. "I have. She seems... content, even if she has a little trouble to settle in," Jane answered diplomatically.

Mary made a sceptical sound in responce. "She writes and moans about her circumstances every week, sometimes twice. I cannot see what she has to be so upset for," the middle sister said sensibly, shaking her head. Mary had grown up quite a bit as well, Elizabeth noted as she watched her sister, who strangely wasn't quoting anything even though she certainly had the opportunity.

"Lydia writes me as well," Kitty suddenly fliked in. "She is bored and wonders why she cannot come live with you if I can. She thinks it is about time she got back out into society." "She is still in mourning!" Bingley and James said at the same time, drawing a half-reluctant chuckle out of Darcy. "I do not think the woman in question is concerned. Even more reason to let her stay where she is, away from company," he reasoned aloud. A number of nods agreed with this statement, and though they talked for another several hours, neither one of the two widows were mentioned again.

Neither of her sisters thought of Lydia again that evening, and the only family member who did was the very kind reverend, who included in his evening prayers, like he always did, a prayer for his wife's two nephews, both died during the first few months or even days of their too short lives. Hence, even Mr James did not think of Lydia directly.

Maybe it was finally the time, when Lydia - as her father had once predicted - would have to realise her own insignificance. Perhaps she would even have to come to terms, with that her actions came with consequences.

She was no longer a young woman, in the beautiful bloom of youth, an exciting future ahead of her, but a pregnant widow with a small daughter at her hip and no living except at the charity of her sisters. Lydia had yet to realise it, it seemed, but Kitty and her - close as they had once been - were now worlds apart, and they were _meant_ to be.

 _A quick explanatory note on Lydia's children. She elopes in early August 1812, and her first son is born in late april (so technically about ten days short of a full nine months I suppose) the next year. She then sees two more children into the world during the two subsequent years, and by the time Wickham leaves for his fatal hunting trip in June or July, she is in the first weeks or days of her fourth pregnancy._

 _Child mortality for working class in large cities are extremely high (In London we're talking about_ half _) during this time and in the social class Lydia and Wickham would find themselves, different from her sisters, huge broods of children are very common. Having a child a year is slightly above average even then, but conceiving is partly due to hormones and if the child doesn't survive, said hormones would be more likely to vote for a new offspring, so to speak, and neither the child born in 1813 or 1815 made it, while the one child born in the year between did._

 _TapTap_


	10. Chapter 9

Elizabeth had missed this feeling. She had not been homesick for Longbourn in a long time, but sometimes, she had missed this part: sitting a group of sisters together with their reading or writing or needle work.

It had become the norm again now, with Kitty and Georgiana studying music or drawing while Elizabeth wrote, and whenever the reverend had any errand to speak to his patron, they were joined by Mary, as well. And today, in preparation for the Pemberley Winter Ball, Jane and her husband had arrived early, and she had come to sit with them, which pleased Elizabeth even better. Strangely, she felt all the sisters were there, like that. Like Jane completed the set. She wasn't sure she liked that thought - Georgiana was not a replacement and Lydia was still her sister - but maybe it was just the sort of silliness one might experience, before ones confinement.

Georgiana was sitting by the piano, while the three married women and Miss Bennet were occupied in various ways. Kitty was lying on the floor, playing with her three nephews, who were in various states of trying to sit or run, Elizabeth was lying back on the sofa with a book, relieved that her nausea seemed to have passed for the morning, Jane was embroidering a small dress for a daughter she hoped one of them at least would get in the future, and Mary was sowing tiny boy clothes, thinking her eldest sister was being fanciful and ridiculous.

The thought that such fancies and ridiculousness came with having as much money as her eldest sisters now did had crossed her mind, but it did so without any bitterness. Mary loved her husband and she adored her cozy, modest but utterly comfortable and homey new home. It felt like it was _hers_ , finally. And while it was certainly true that her two older sisters were certainly a world better off than she was, at _least_ , they were also very generous and helpful with that wealth. Lydia, she had understood, was out in the cold now, but hadn't she always had that habit - even when they were very small - to missuse all that was given to them? Mary herself had found nothing but helpful graciousness whenever she dared to ask either of her older sisters for help of any kind. Thinking back, she suspected it had always been that way.

She had not told either one of them yet - just because she hadn't been sure at first - but now that they were gathered again, the next time she found herself alone with just the two older, married women, she would. Mary had felt certain for a little while now, and while she thought it too soon to tell her husband, Elizabeth, what with all of her certainty from the first nauseous morning, would understand. And they would both give her the best advice. Maybe, she allowed herself the one frivolous thought, she'd beat them both and be the first (of them, she somehow did not count her younger sister Lydia) to have a daughter.

Jane's nursemaid was the first to come collect her child for a well-deserved nap, and as Kitty and Georgiana chose to each pick a twin and join her in putting them down, Mary took the opportunity to speak to her two older sisters on their own.

"Elizabeth? Jane?" She asked as soon as they were alone. Clearly, they both sensed something from her tone, because they both turned to give her their full attention, and Elizabeth's eyes had grown curious and inquisitive, while Jane tilted her head in her usual soft concern. "Yes?" The latter encouraged her gently.

"I think I am in the family way. My husband doesn't know yet." Just like she expected them too, Jane was overcome with gentle enthusiasm and warm congratulations, and Elizabeth gave her the best advice imaginable. Between the two of them, they had all the encouragement and all the advice she could need. The older she grew, the more Mary was grateful for her two older sisters - now more than ever.


	11. Chapter 10

Finally it was time for the Pemberley Winter ball and the evening especially the younger women had anticipated so brightly had now arrived. Elizabeth's stomach had started to grow, but she still looked resplendant in her deep blue dress, complimenting it with delicate jevelry her younger sister Kitty could only envy.

Kitty herself was dressed in a green gown Elizabeth had ordered for her, and she'd gotten to borrow some earrings from her older sister. Kitty had been nervous to learn that they were a sort of heirloom of the Darcy family (or rather, not according to the Darcys, because apparently it took three generations for it to count as such in _their_ eyes) but her sister's spooky husband had not seemed to mind her wearing them, so she had finally accepted her sister's kind offer to let Kitty use them for the occasion.

Georgina was wearing white, and a mixture of jewelry she'd either been gifted by her brother or inherited from her mother. She looked almost as beautiful as Jane, Kitty had decided when helping her new sister to tie off the lace ribbons around her waist. Mary, on the other hand, always a rebel in a very different way from how Elizabeth was a rebel, was wearing hardly any jewelry, and her dress was dark.

Jane, of course, was as beautiful as ever, in a light blue dress of the most delicate cut and fabric. Charles had - when he admired their dresses - remarked that they were dressed almost in a scale, from light to dark. Darcy, of course, had said far fewer, though eloquent words, which had not really given anything away when it came to his mindset nor opinion. At least, not to Kitty. She had a feeling that both his wife, his sister and his best friend understood his meaning just fine.

Kitty stood in the entrance hall, a bit to the side of where her sister, her husband and her sister-in-law greeted the guests, with Jane and Bingley joining them naturally. Jane's gentleness and beauty was always complimenting any gathering, and Charles' brightness was seemingly a welcome thing to Darcy, allowing him to be a bit more grim and taciturn without anybody noticing.

Kitty was thoroughly excited for the ball to begin, but though she rarely lacked for dance partners during the evening, it started to dawn on her as the evening ran on, just how out of place she was.

The ballroom was beautiful, the food was excellent, the music was supreme and everybody was dressed to perfection. Miss Darcy belonged here, Elizabeth and Jane were two of the impressive matrons now - young as they were, Kitty could easily spot it - even Mary with her husband the reverend fitted, even if only because she was the sister of the hostess. Kitty herself could not help but compare their conduct to that of their mother, or herself and Lydia at the Netherfield ball, and she started to feel ashamed and burdensome.

When she finally went to bed early in the morning, her head was reeling. She was not a girl awfully used to deep thoughts, which might have been because her younger sister tended to abhor such things, and Kitty had always been happy to follow along in her tracks. Now, come to think of it, she didn't know why.

Perhaps it was simply because Lydia was available. Jane and Elizabeth were both older and so refined compared to the younger ones. It was strange, but she had never considered before why she never asked them to join in her games, instead. They had never been unkind to her, and never really declined spending time together as she was very little. And Mary had been so focused on studies, that somehow, Kitty had been eager to accept the temptation of being with her only younger sister, the only one she could lead - nevermind that she had followed instead of leading, soon enough.

Kitty spend most of the very early hours thinking and pondering, and by the time she finally fell asleep, she had made her mind up.


	12. Chapter 11

Kitty felt pretty at home at Pemberley now, mostly, even if it only was because georgiana and Elizabeth were so very kind to her, but this particular door was one she knocked on feeling some apprehension. The stern, "come in," answering the knock did not make it better either, but Kitty gathered up her courage and opened the door, stepping into the office of Pemberley's master and her second oldest sister's husband.

"Catherine," mr Darcy was, as ever, more formal than the rest of them, but Kitty took comfort in the fact that he - though serious as ever - did not look unkind. He was looking at her with surprising kindess and patience, actually, gesturing for her to sit. As a matter of fact, when she cast her mind back, though he was harldy of an easy temperament, she had never seen him act unkindly.

"Good morning," he greeted her once she'd sat down before his desk, seemingly with some surprise, though it was hard to tell with him. "How may I assist you?" She could not help but fidged and look down, but he, somewhat to her amasement, did not push, but waited patiently. When she finally managed to look up a few seconds later, he if anything looked even kinder, and certainly not impatient. That, as much as anything gave her the courage to actually start talking.

She spoke with him honestly, though she did not known how on earth she dared to. She spoke of her dreams and her fear of not belonging, and at the end, she spoke of Mary. Mr Darcy listened silently, but with attention and also with no judgement, and when she finally asked her question, he listened to that too, and then he nodded.

* * *

"Oh, Lydia, not again!" Jane's gentle proclamation nevertheless made them all look up. The three oldest Bennet sisters, along with Miss Darcy, was sitting in the parlour, reading letters and doing embroidery.

"What is it this time?" Elizabeth asked, holding back an impulse to do something rash. Lydia had become more and more loud lately in her objections to everything and her blame placed on everybody but herself and possibly her husband, arguably the two people who was responsible for everything amiss in her life.

"Oh it is... here!" Jane handed the letter over, looking suitably upset. Elizabeth read, her eyes and her mouth narrowing. She put the letter down on the table and shook her head. "Pay her no heed, Jane," she spoke gently and comfortingly, "I do not any longer. She is perfectly well - she is just complaining."

"I know that," Jane responded, sadly looking at the letter placed in Elizabeth's lap. "I just wish her to be happy, and I had hoped that nwo that he rhusband is gone, she might have another chance to be!"

"That is the issue, though," Mary noted softly, looking down at the book in her own lap. "She wishes for time to turn back, and her misstep can not be undone." "Maybe... if..." Georgiana looked out the window, doubtlessly thinking of her own near misstep with that same man. All three of her new sisters immediately came to her comefort, assuring her that though seemingly alike, there was little likeness between her sistuation and that of Lydia. After all, Georgiana had made a small mistake, one that she'd let her brother help undo, while Lydia had eloped with the least suitable man imaginable.

Georgiana still felt that it could so easily have been her, but at the end, she let her sisters comfort her and put it out of her mind. As they pointed out, her and Kitty had their entire lives ahead of them, just as Kitty entered the room, cheeks curiously bright, and conversation instead turned. to other things. For the rest of the afternoon, the women talked of the ball, and of their children, while Mr Darcy did what he did best, cared for his family and for their affairs.


	13. Chapter 12

It was a wonderful day in the church belonging to the Pemberley estate and nearby village. The sun was shining, spring was in full bloom, and all the bride's sisters were all there. Kitty Bennet - and it was the last day she'd ever wear that name, as the last of the Bennet sisters to do so - was wearing a new gown, gifted to her by her oldest sister, Jane, and the most goregous flowers and a delicate veil, both wedding presents from her other sister, Elizabeth.

The oldest sister was standing in the church, looking as beautiful as ever, shining together with the sun, her baby boy in her arms and her husbands arm across her shoulder. Next to her was the next sister, a newly born baby girl with her, and her own husband watching over the two of them sternly - until you saw the look in his eyes.

Another place down, yet another sister sat with her own husband, Mary's stomach large with a child soon to arrive, much like the state of the very youngest sister, the widow, sitting several places away from her older sisters, accompanied only by their mother. Differently from the widow, the priet's wife looked extatically happy.

The colonel the last Miss Bennet was marrying, was granting the Darcy's a smile before his bride entered, it having been Mr Darcy who introduced the young pair, after Miss Bennet had asked him to find her a husband of her own, much like he did for her sister Mary.

The youngest former Miss Bennet tried to draw attention to herself after the ceremony, but though several of her brothers-in-law doted on her small daughter, no one payed her any heed, the bride least of all, to her great anger. However, amongst the sun, the roses and the happy occasion, no one gave this temper tantrum any eyes or ears, as well.


	14. Epilogue

_This is the ending of this arc, and I hope it has brought smiles to all of you. I would like to take this moment to thank all of you for the amazing responce this story and its companion pieces has recieved, and address one point of contention: I know Charlotte Lucas might not inherit Longbourn after her husband, and for those of you it might bother, just pretend that her new husband does, in fact, turn out to be the legal heir._

 _TapTap_

Derbyshire life was good. Elizabeth had finally gotten her little girl, but at a cost. They both made it, but there were long hours of waiting for her husband, sisters and their husbands while they waited to know if they would pull through. No one outside of family was very surprised that such a family only had three children, so no one questioned it, and though Elizabeth would not have minded a few more, she had three lovely children and both husband and wife were happy.

Jane, on the other hand, had another son later on, as well as three daughters of her own - and she raised Lydia's older daughter as well. Mr and Mrs Darcy offered to do so, but were turned down. They were so again with the youngest daughter Wickham, who was raised in the vicarage with Mary's son, just her age, and her somewhat younger daughter.

Kitty too built a family and a happy home with her colonel, like Georgiana did after marrying, years later. Though less grand, Mary might have almost been the happiest, her reverend and three children in the vicarage.

She sat one afternoon in the parlour in her modest but perfect home, looking down at the piano before her while her husband wrote on his sermon, newborn baby girl in her arms, and two children of barely three years old playing at the hearthrug, at a safe distance from the fire.

Much like the children, four kittens ranging from snow white to deep black were playing a few feet away from them, their mother - the wise tabby Mary grown up with and had brought from Longbourn - was watching them proudly, much like Mary was watching her own, come to think of it.

Her sisters would likely visit soon, bringing their own children perhaps, but for now, Mary was content in the silence with the other mother and all the precious little ones.

Not many miles away, in the heart of the Pemberley estate, Elizabeth was doing much the same, not by a piano, but under a tree, sititng on a picnic blanket with her three somewhat older children.

A bit further, but not far, Jane was nursing her own newborn, listening to the sounds of childish laughter and play coming from another room. Kitty was further, as was Georgiana, and had no children yet, but they were both in the family way, and they too, were endlessly happy at this summer afternoon, some years after the death of their father.

They all had loving husbands and happy families, homes where they felt at rest and the support of one another. Ther mother remained away, but with so many sisters no one lacked for advice or support - usually both far better than their mother could really provide.

Lydia stayed in the little house with their mother (however grudgingly), away from her sisters but living off of their charity, even though she never really realised as much and admitted it even less. It was a happy ending to the story of the Bennet sisters, all in all, and all the lucky ones were happy for their good fortune. Maybe Mary, where she sat smiling like a sun by her piano, was so most of all.


End file.
